Felix Culpa
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: A car crash stole the love of her life and left her heartbroken. Overcome with grief, she has to make a choice: move on, or seek revenge.
1. Scars will remain

**Hey everyone! This is my first foray into the world of Spemily, so please let me know what you think. This will be a pretty short story, only five chapters, but a lot will happen during them. Also, I feel the need to warn you, this is not a happy story. It's a tragedy, so if you're looking for a happy ending look elsewhere. If you're familiar with me and my writing you'll know that I'm big on angst, so if that's what you're after look no further. Reviews make me really happy, so if you read it and like it, let me know. See you next chapter.**

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_Who knows  
how to drink pain,  
and live?  
~ The Wound, Gwen Harwood_

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The words are written on a snow-covered tombstone. Snow still falls, softy, gently, as if it is afraid of startling the solitary figure perched by the grave, flowers in one hand and apologies in the other. She has been here every day since the funeral, and she will be here every day until she loses either her life or her mind (and both are likely). Nothing else could tear her away. She sets the flowers down in front of the tombstone, where they settle amongst others of their kind, blending into a floral eulogy to express the words that people are still too heartbroken to say.

She sits back on her heels, reading the words, and then the name. The words may only be in stone, but that name is in her bones, in her heart, in her very being. That name is as much a part of her as her own blood or hair or skin. It clings to her, reminding her of what she once had, of the lover she has lost and the life she will never have.

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," she says softly. "Aria wouldn't let me leave the apartment. You know how she gets."

She laughs, but the sound gets caught in the snow-filled silence, muffled and distorted as if she is being reminded that this is a place for solemnity, not for laughter.

"I brought you some flowers," she goes on, indicating them. "They were your favorite. I'll bring you some fresh ones tomorrow."

A gust of wind drifts over her, and she pulls her jacket in closer. Aria hadn't let her go until she'd promised to be less than an hour, and rug up in gloves, a scarf, and her warmest jacket.

"A storm's on the way," she'd told her, "and I don't want you to get caught in it."

So she'd agreed, willing to do anything if it meant she would be able to be here. She looks at her watch; she has been here twenty minutes already. She crosses her legs, shifting until she's in a relatively comfortable position, although the ground beneath her is cold and unyielding.

"I talked to your mother today," she says, her eyes drifting downwards as she plucks some weeds from the ground. "She asked me out to brunch tomorrow. I'm not sure I'll go, but it was a nice offer."

She thinks back to when the other girl's mother had first heard about them. She had been displeased, but eventually she'd come to accept and even welcome her. Now she was more a part of that family than she was her own; she hadn't even heard from her parents in a month. They'd called just after the funeral, to make sure she was okay (she had a history of 'mental instability', as her psychologist phrased it). She had wanted to admit that she wasn't, that she would never be okay, but she knew it wouldn't have done any good. So she said she was, and they said they were glad, and they haven't spoken since.

"The girls are doing better," she offers, a feeble effort to cheer herself up. Of course the other two members of their group are doing well; they hadn't had their hearts ripped out and buried in the ground. "Aria got a full-time position with that photographer she's been interning for. And Hanna's in New York for a second interview with this designer she's admired for years, so she's really happy about that."

Another gust of wind comes, but this one is laden with memories, and she can almost hear her love asking, _And you? Are you doing better?_

By this point she's removed all the weeds, but she keeps pulling, watching the roots of little plants being torn from the earth, feeling the dirt catch under her fingernails, wishing that if she dug her own grave and lay down to sleep in it, the snow would cover her and she would fall into an untroubled sleep, and when morning came she would not wake up.

But she knows it is not that easy. She knows the snow would cover her well enough, but before it could stop her heart or freeze her blood, someone would find her. They would cry out, startled, and then they would save her. They would rub her hands until feeling returned to them in jolts of stabbing pain. They would wrap her in blankets until she stopped shaking. They would bundle her up and drive her to the hospital, and the nurses and doctors would fix her body and try not to notice that her heart no longer worked the way it should. It still pumped blood, it still kept her alive, but it did not give her a reason to live.

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	2. The art and scope of love

**Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and, most of all, reviews last chapter. This one is, obviously, a flashback, and I hope you enjoy it. I've pretty much finished writing this, and the more reviews I get the faster I'll get the next update out. So if you want to read more, let me know.**

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_"Come on, Spence, we're going to be late!" Emily whined, pulling at the sleeve of her girlfriend's cashmere sweater._

_"Hang on," Spencer replied, laughing, as the person behind the counter handed her their tickets with a knowing wink. She turned to Emily, unable to hold back a smile. "All right, now we can go."_

_Emily grabbed Spencer's hand and dragged her down the corridor. The movie was showing in cinema three, down the end. They joined the end of the line, falling into place behind a red-haired couple; the boy was scrolling through his phone, obviously bored, and the girl was trying not to show how much she was annoyed by it._

_Emily tilted her head toward the couple and nudged Spencer. "Aren't you glad you're dating me?" she asked, her voice low and seductive. "We never argue about which movies to watch."_

_Spencer grinned. "Unless you try to make me watch Finding Nemo again."_

_"I've only made you watch it a few times!" Emily protested, eyes wide. They moved up the line, avoiding a clump of popcorn and the remains of someone's ice cream._

_"Fifteen, actually," Spencer corrected good-naturedly, "but who's counting?"_

_Emily fluttered her eyelashes as they handed over their tickets and were ushered into the cinema. As they made their way up to the back corner – their customary seat – Emily was humming Just Keep Swimming under her breath, and Spencer rolled her eyes. They'd just settled into their seats when the red-haired couple from the line sat down in front of them. The girl twisted in her seat, saw the two of them holding hands, and raised her eyebrows. Then she muttered something to her boyfriend, who glanced at the girls and smirked before focusing on the front again._

_Emily leaned over, her lips brushing Spencer's ear, and said, "Ignore him."_

_"Don't worry," Spencer said, turning around so that she was looking Emily in the eyes. She cupped Emily's chin in her hand, a smile tugging at her lips. "My attention's all on you."_

_A delighted smile spread over Emily's face, and then she grabbed Spencer's hand and pulled her in. Their lips met, sparks flying through both of them as if this was the first time they'd ever kissed. The same glow bubbled in Spencer's stomach, the same butterflies fluttered in Emily's heart, that the girls had felt after their first date – which had ended disastrously after their canoe had capsized and dumped both of them in the middle of a lake._

_They pulled away again, trying to focus on the movie, but halfway through they declared it a lost cause and slipped out the door. They emerged from the cinema, blinking in the suddenly bright light, and stood on the steps for a moment._

_"So what do you want to do now?" Spencer asked, sliding her hand into Emily's and leaning in close. She rested her head on Emily's shoulder, half-closing her eyes and focusing on her girlfriend's rhythmic breathing, the warmth of her skin, the feeling of being close to her._

_Emily hummed thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the parking lot before them. Then she giggled and started walking. "C'mon."_

_She led Spencer through the parking lot, weaving through the neat rows of parked cars, and ducked down an empty alleyway. Spencer glanced at the piles of trash and the underfed stray cat slinking around, and she gave Emily a suspicious look. "Emily, is there something you're not telling me?"_

_Emily looked back at her. "Like what?"_

_"Like that you're secretly a serial killer and you're bringing me back here to kill me?"_

_Emily came to a stop, cocking an eyebrow and lacing her fingers with Spencer's. "If I was going to kill you, don't you think I'd be a little bit more subtle about it?"_

_"Oh yes, because subtlety is your strong suit," Spencer teased, referring to the fact that Emily had been the first one to develop a crush on the other, and by the time she finally got around to telling her, Spencer had already known for a month._

_Emily rolled her eyes, and then silenced Spencer's laughter with a kiss. They kept walking through the alley, and when they reached the end of it Spencer's breath caught in her throat. They weren't standing at the edge of a housing complex or the side of a street, as Spencer had anticipated; they were standing on the outskirts of a small park, with green grass dotted with white flowers, a swingset in the middle, and a tasteful water fountain on the other side. She turned to Emily, speechless._

_"It's good to know I can still surprise you, even after all this time." Emily smirked at her, grabbed her hand, and led her into the park._

_Spencer followed without a word. She'd follow Emily anywhere._

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	3. A fire of anguish

**Thanks for the reviews and such last chapter. During this chapter something pretty significant happens, and I'm not too sure I wrote it well; so please leave your reviews and let me know what you thought of it. Two more chapters left, and I hope you guys enjoy them - and review. ;)**

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"Spencer, where are you going?"

"Out."

The door slams behind her, blocking out Aria's protests. She hurries down the hall, pulling her faux-fur hood low over her face and shoving her hands into the pocket of her coat. It's been a month since she stopped going to the cemetery, almost a year since the car crash that took the life of the only woman she'd ever loved. But time's wings have carried her swiftly towards this day, this moment, this inevitable end.

It's not snowing, but it's bitterly cold outside. By the time Spencer reaches the end of the block the frigid wind has brought tears to her eyes, but she's too stubborn to turn back. She's made her decision, and nothing can sway her, not the biting wind or the freezing sleet that begins to fall as she crosses the road and turns the corner.

She walks at a brisk pace, as much to avoid the cold as to reach her destination quickly. She's spent the past four weeks holed up in her room, despite Aria's pleas to come out and spend time with her friends. Hanna had even dropped by for a visit, but Spencer had responded only in monosyllables until the other girl had finally shot a pained look at Aria, promised to come back soon, and practically fled from the room.

The streets are nearly empty; only the most determined or desperate are brave enough to face the cold. Spencer is both, and nothing can deter her from her mission. She pulls her coat tighter around her, suppressing a shiver, and forces herself to keep going. The address she's aiming for is only three blocks away.

In warmer weather this would be a pleasant walk; if she had a warmer heart she might even enjoy it. But there is nothing enjoyable about today's task.

Finally the building comes into view. It looks a lot like the ones nearby, and if she hadn't spent hours staring at pictures of it she might not be able to tell it apart. But she recognizes the cracks above the front door, the slightly lopsided tree out the front, the second-floor windows with their matching purple curtains. She presses herself against the wall and waits.

The world passes her by, and she lets it. There's nothing of interest for her here. She has one last mission and then she'll be free.

After a few minutes someone walks up the steps to the front door, and she peels away from the wall and quickly follows. While the person taps a combination into the keypad beside the door, Spencer makes a show of searching through her bag, like she's a resident looking for her keys. The keypad beeps and the door swings open. Spencer scurries inside, but before the door closes she feels a hand on her shoulder. She whirls around and her heart sinks.

"Spencer, what are you doing here?" Aria demands. Her face is framed by the fake fur around her hood, and her nose is pink from the cold; she must have run all the way here just to catch up to her.

"Let go of me, Aria," she growls, shrugging out of her grip. The tiny logical part of her brain tells her that she should leave, just go back to the apartment with Aria and forget about this crazy plan. But then Emily's face swims into her view, painfully clear, and she knows she can't turn back. She has to see it through. For her.

Aria will try to stop her, but if she can just get up there first, she can do what she needs to do. She reaches out a gloved hand and slams it into Aria's chest, sending the smaller girl stumbling backwards. The door swings closed and Aria lunges forward, pressing herself against the glass with a horrified look on her face. Spencer stands there for a moment, just a moment, and then she turns on her heel and marches up the stairs.

Apartment 2J. She'd memorized the number weeks ago, ever since she found out the name of the drunk driver responsible for Emily's accident. She turns right at the top of the flight of stairs, her footfalls light on the plush peach carpet, and scans the numbers on the doors. It's the one at the end of the hall; she can see the bronze numbers sparkling in the glow of the hall light.

She hurries down the hall, plunging her hand into her bag. Her fingers brush up against the gun and she shivers, but she doesn't draw it out yet. She just needs to know it's there. She comes to a stop in front of the door, and something makes her hesitate. She remembers again the night that Emily died, how Spencer and Aria had been ordering takeout and settling down to play cards, how Mrs Fields had called Spencer in tears. Even now Spencer can remember how she broke down, wordlessly handing Aria the phone and sinking to her knees, unable even to cry. She was numb, in shock, unable to comprehend such tragedy.

But the time for comprehension, for understanding, for grieving, has passed. Now is the time for action.

She squares her shoulders and knocks on the door. Nothing happens. She knocks again, more loudly, and almost in response she hears someone shout her name from the bottom of the stairwell. So Aria is on her way.

Spencer knocks one more time, kicks the door in frustration, and then reaches for the handle. To her surprise the door is unlocked, and she pushes it open, a feeling of foreboding rising in her chest.

Before she's even taken a step inside Aria has appeared beside her. She's tugging at her arm, trying to pull her away, begging, "Don't do this, don't do this."

But Spencer ignores her. She strides into the room, barely even listening to Aria's pleas, and flicks on the light. The apartment is a mess of empty takeout containers, beer bottles, and packets of pills. Her eyes skim over it, and at first she doesn't realize what's horribly wrong about this picture.

Aria's scream is enough to jerk her to her senses.

Sprawled in the middle of the room, in a puddle of his own blood, is the very person Spencer has come here to kill. Her hands fly to the gun in her bag, but it's still nestled softly in a silk scarf. Another gun, bigger and apparently more powerful, is clenched in his cold, dead hand.

"C'mon, Spence." Aria grabs her arm and desperately tries to get her to leave. "We need to go."

"I…" Spencer's eyes are huge and her mouth is slightly parted in shock. She stares at the body, unable to make sense of it. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She feels… cheated. She had come here to avenge Emily's death, and he has stolen even that from her – as if stealing the love of her life wasn't enough.

Finally she succumbs to Aria's insistent tugging and turns to leave, letting the door swing closed behind her. The girls flee down the corridor. Spencer's heart is pounding wildly in her chest. She keeps running, even though she has nowhere else to go.

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	4. Flawed wholeness

**Hey guys. Sorry for the slow update, I had trouble with this fluff chapter. But here it is, and I hope you enjoy. There's just one more chapter left, and I think it's my favorite (you know, in a heartbreaking kind of way). It's already written, so I'll either publish it when I get enough reviews to show me people are interested, or sometime next week; your call, guys. If you like it, review. See you all next time, for the final chapter. :)**

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_Emily let out a contented sigh as she stretched her arms out on the grass behind her, staring up at the bright blue sky with its scattering of clouds. They were in their secluded playground, far away from worries like school and parents and siblings. They were blissfully, blessedly alone._

_"What are you thinking about?" Spencer mumbled, drowsy from the warm sun._

_"Nothing much." Emily propped herself up and looked at her girlfriend, who was sprawled out on the grass, her hair like a halo around her head, eyes closed and a peaceful smile on her face. "Just how happy I am to be here with you."_

_Spencer opened one eye and looked at her. "Oh yeah?"_

_Emily nodded. "I mean, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."_

_"Yeah, me too." Spencer closed her eyes again, an amused smirk creeping over her face. "Except maybe school. There's something about classrooms that make me feel so relaxed. In fact, I think I'd rather be in one right now -"_

_"Don't even think about it." Emily nudged her playfully, and Spencer opened her eyes and grinned. "Spencer Hastings, it's the start of spring break. You cannot seriously be thinking about school on a day like today."_

_"Well, in truth, I wasn't really thinking about school," Spencer admitted, sitting up and giving Emily a sideways look._

_"Oh really?" Emily said. "What were you thinking about then?"_

_"If you must know," Spencer muttered, leaning in a little closer with each word, "I was thinking about doing this."_

_The last word brought her lips to Emily's, and the two lay back down, safe in each other's embrace and losing themselves in the kiss. When they finished they were both panting, feeling warm and not just because of the sun. Spencer sat up, pulling her hair back and quickly braiding it. Emily watched, enjoying the way the sun glinted on Spencer's skin, the way her muscles stretched under her skin-tight shirt, the way she kept sneaking glances at her when she thought Emily wasn't watching._

_When Spencer was finished, Emily stood up, dusted some specks of pollen off her skirt, and reached down to pull Spencer to her feet. "Come on."_

_She led her over to the swings and they sat down, still holding hands. They started swinging gently back and forth, comfortably silent, letting the world pass them by as they enjoyed their own slice of paradise. After a while Emily slowed down, dragging her feet through the bark and giving Spencer a sideways look._

_"Hey Spence?"_

_Spencer looked up, curious. "What is it, babe?"_

_"You know that apartment I showed you pictures of last week? The one downtown, with the two bedrooms and the fireplace in the living room?"_

_"With the view of the park and the peach-colored walls?" Spencer asked, nodding as she swung back and forth. "It looked amazing." Emily leaned back with a coy smile, waiting for Spencer to catch on. Spencer came to an abrupt stop, her eyes widening. "No. You didn't -"_

_Unable to contain herself, Emily let her grin stretch from ear to ear. "I got the place!"_

_"That's great!" Spencer exclaimed. "When do you move in?"_

_"I was thinking we could wait until you get back from that trip with your parents next month," Emily said._

_Spencer opened her mouth to reply, but then something in her mind clicked. Emily had said _we_. _We could wait_. She stopped swinging, her eyes widening. "You don't mean -"_

_Once again, Emily didn't let her finish. She was the only one who could get away with interrupting Spencer, and she always used it to her advantage. "I do." She grinned, and then stood up, giving Spencer that characteristic coy smile, her eyelashes fluttering and her gaze flicking up to her girlfriend's face. While Spencer watched in amusement, Emily knelt down in front of her, resting a hand on Spencer's knee and doing her best to keep a straight face. "Spencer," she said with mock seriousness, "will you move in with me?"_

_Spencer's eyes lit up and she couldn't stop a smile from stealing across her face. One hand flew to her heart and she pretended to fan herself with the other, like a proper lady responding to a marriage proposal. "Oh my word," she said. "How lucky I am to have gained the favor of such a genuine suitor."_

_Emily laughed. "Is that a yes then?"_

_"Of course it's a yes. I would love to move in with you." Spencer flung herself forward and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, knocking her to the ground. They tumbled over a few times, and then came to a stop, panting and grinning and so overcome with happiness that a long time passed before either of them spoke._

_Then Spencer said, softly but passionately, "I love you so much, Emily."_

_ "I love you too," Emily responded, her eyes sparkling._

_They lay side by side again, staring at the clouds and making plans for their future. They had their whole lives ahead of them, and nothing was going to stop them from being together._

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	5. The wound of the world

**So, sorry this is a little later than I intended. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and such. I haven't really gotten much of a response from this story, but I'm not sure if it's because of the pairing or my writing or what, but you guys who took the time to review seemed to want more, so I figured I may as well let you have the final piece. Watch your hearts, guys. There's no happy endings here. Also, I love love love reviews, so if you read this (even if it's years after I've published it) and like it please let me know. I guarantee I'll love you forever. With that, here is the conclusion of my first Spemily fic. I hope you enjoy it.**

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A little over a month later, as the snow is thawing and flowers are blossoming, a girl sits in the cemetery. A petal drifts down and flutters onto her lap, and she brushes it away. There is no room for beauty anymore. Sadness has taken a permanent hold of her heart, and she doesn't have the strength to fight it anymore. Once she would have, but she has nothing left, no scraps of courage or shreds of happiness. Nothing to battle the cold that is seeping through her bones, the numbness that is spreading through her limbs, that have nothing to do with the weather.

It's warm out, and the sun is feebly shining through a smattering of clouds. She shivers, but it has nothing to do with the faint wind that drifts across the cemetery. It picks up an old piece of newspaper and floats it toward her, dropping it at her feet. She sees what it is and hurriedly crumples it up, tossing it over her shoulder and facing the tombstone before her.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispers, tears springing to her eyes at once. "I tried to…" She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and sniffles. She'd thought she could do this. It's been a long time since she's been here, and she thought she'd given herself enough time to grieve. But maybe there's no such thing as enough time. Maybe grieving never stops, and this steady ache in her heart is never going to go away.

She picks at some flowers at the base of the tombstone, pulling the petals off and throwing them to the wind. They dance around each other, tumbling and turning and drifting off. Maybe they'll find a place where beauty still exists, where hope isn't dead.

"I tried to do the right thing," she says softly. "I thought… I know it's not going to bring you back. But I thought it's what you would have wanted. I don't… I don't know. I'm so lost without you."

The tears stream down her face and she lets them fall, splashing to the ground and sinking into the dirt. She tries not to picture what's beneath the dirt, in a coffin below her feet. It's too awful to contemplate. She focuses her attention on the name on the tombstone, slowly reaching out and running her hand along the engraved stone.

There are still flowers here, gathered in bunches on either side of the tombstone. Her own addition is the biggest and brightest, and she worries it's too much. Does it seem too cheery for such a dark place? Will it make her seem disrespectful?

"I never knew it would go that far," she admits quietly. "I still can't believe he… I can't… I can't believe I'm never going to see you again. Or hear your voice. Or…" The words catch in her throat and she lets out a sob, burying her face in her scarf. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you," she mumbles.

She wonders if the pain will ever fade. It still feels so raw, slicing her heart into ribbons even at the mention of her name, and she doesn't know if that will ever change. She isn't sure she can live with this pain without doing something stupid. In the time since her death she'd completely fallen apart. She still runs through their last moments in her mind, picturing it clearly: her laugh, her unusually bright eyes, her soft smile. And then… she was gone. Ripped away. So needless, so senseless. Gone forever, when she should be right here. She was always meant to be right here, beside her. That was what they had promised, wasn't it?

"I let you down," she says through her tears, her eyes glazing over. The letters in the name on the tombstone swirl around, rearranging themselves until they make no sense. Like anything in this world makes sense anymore. "I should have been there. I could have stopped… I shouldn't have let you go…"

She stops talking. There's nothing she could have done. She knows this, and yet it does nothing to alleviate the guilt that's threatening to drown her. This was how things were always going to play out, how it was always going to end. She could never have stopped it.

She sits there in silence for a long time, listening to the sounds of the world. A dog barks, a bird calls, a child shrieks. The world keeps turning, as if it is unaware that her life is over, as if it does not know that someone special has been taken before her time. As if it does not care for the girl who sits in the cemetery, for her tears and her heartbreak, for her soul that dies a little more each day.

Finally she rises, dusting more petals from her skirt, and turns to the tombstone beside the one she's sitting at.

"Goodbye, Emily," she says solemnly, resting her hand on the cold stone and taking a deep, shuddering breath. She turns back to the other tombstone and places her hand gently on the top. She hesitates, seemingly unable to bring herself to say the words. "Goodbye, Spencer."

Then Aria turns and strides out of the cemetery, leaving two pieces of her heart behind.

At least now they can be together.

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